


Blind Date

by phocya



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Does reader know that tony is iron-man, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Tagging as I go, i had to convert 3rd person to 2nd person cause i liked 2nd more after all, i wrote this in notepad man..., maybe not, okay, reader is clumsy, so there are probably some errors in there, too lazy to correct anything, what was i doing, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phocya/pseuds/phocya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You find yourself in a blind date with Tony Stark. Things don't go as you'd plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Date

All you wanted was to have a normal blind date.

You sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping your coffee and staring out of the window. Your handy-dandy-in-case-something-happens-knife laid next to your handbag, covered with your (F/C) silk scarf. You glanced down at it, eyeing the maroon purse beside its blade. It had been almost fifteen minutes since you've been trying to check your makeup, ten minutes since you've been blindly applied your mascara. For all you knew, you'd completely missed your eyes and drawn swastikas all over your own forehead with the black-hued brush. You needed to check, needed to plunge your hand into the bag and grab for the mirror. You needed to be sure you weren't inadvertently advertising yourself as a Nazi in a SoHo Starbucks. Yet the danger, the unparalleled sharpness of the blade, it was too much of a risk.

You glanced back up at Tony, who was your blind date, scanning his body. It there was something that was bothering you; possibly his black and red sunglasses that sat a few inches too low his nose. Why couldn't he just pull his stupid shades up? Still, he was incredibly attractive, even while he spoke about how good Black Sabbath was., It was hardly the worst blind date you'd been on. Although, if you'd been unintentionally presenting yourself as a Nazi—and had Tony not been the least bit offended—than perhaps it would soon be on its way to the top of the list.

Glancing back at the purse on the floor, the bloodied knife buried beside it under the blue, silk scarf, you sighed heavily. That knife, that disguised weapon, it was the only thing standing in your way. You just wanted to check your mascara, make sure you'd circled your eyes and not somehow deviated from the path and constructed two interlocking lines across the middle of your forehead like Charles Manson considering tattoos. Just one glance, that’s all you need. A simple reach and a bit of careful navigation, you'd be fine. You just hopefully wouldn't cut your hand on the blade, just take your time while reaching in and not inadvertently stab yourself. It would be simple, elementary even. You hjust maneuver your hand into the bag, grab the mirror, and not cut your entire arm during the process. Easy, you thought. You leaned forward and plunged your hand blindly into the depths of the purse, the knife beside it immediately grinding up against the flesh of your left.

“Oh fuck,” You groaned, thrusting your body back against your steel chair and grabbing at your wrist. “God damn cunt fucking shit of a horse sandwich!”

“What?” Tony said, abruptly interrupting his retelling on how he has so much fucking money that it would make Bill Gates look like a rice farmer from a third-world country.. Something like that.

“Nothing,” You said, cradling your lacerated right arm in your left hand. The knife had got you and slashed you on the way down. You moved too quickly.

“Are you okay?” The man asked, taking off his sunglasses and straining his neck as he attempted to see the bleeding arm you hid in your lap.

“I’m fine,” You snapped, lowering your arm even further. Great, now you was bleeding all over your new dress. Luckily you'd been wearing a wine red dress. Beautiful save. But, either way, you were in public, you were in a god damn Starbucks. Why did you listen about bringing the knife? Now all it did was stand guard by your purse, its blade unfortunately close to its zippered opening.

“You look like you’re bleeding,” Tony stated, playing with his shades.

“I’m not,” You mumbled, lowering your arm even further. You probably looked insane, like an absolute idiot. For all you knew, you probably also had mascara-drawn swastikas against your forehead, the black inky substance streaking down with your sweat. If you could just reach into your bag without stabbing yourself with the concealed blade, if you could just pull out the cosmetic mirror, you could be sure you weren't unintentionally announcing your untrue hatred of the Jewish people. Yet the knife, its increasingly blood-stained blade, still stood watch, still remained just a few inches from the zippered opening. It was impenetrable.

“You’re definitely bleeding,” Tony said, leaning forward even further.

“No,” You lied, “it’s just that time of the month. Please don’t draw any more attention to it than is necessary.”

“Oh,” Tony said, leaning back. “Gross. Well, anyway, like I was saying... Black Sabbath ROCK, did you know that...”

Whatever fun-fact he was about to tell you probably wasn't important at that moment. Your main goal was to execute any possible swastikas located on your forehead. Not listen to a man talk about his favourite band.

You glanced down at the bag, the blue scarf now stained with droplets of ruby blood. Why did you have to set down the concealed knife so close to the purse? Why did you bring it in the first place? You should’ve known (F/N) was overly afraid, that she was wrong about the dangers of blind dates. You'd gone to see The Boss, you and Michael—an attractive construction worker from Queens—but actually managed to watch less than six minutes of the film thanks to (F/N)'s horrible suggestion. Why were you still even friends with her? Ugh..

Glancing back up at Tony, you tried to make sense of what he was talking about, your left arm clutched around your bloodied right. It was something about the superiority of record players over every other medium of music. Whatever the case, you couldn’t concentrate on the discussion. For all you knew, you still had swastikas scribbled across your forehead. You just needed to reach into the bag, to carefully maneuver so that you did not cut your own wrist on the knife sitting a few inches beside it. You could then just grab the mirror, hold it up to your face for a quick second and go about fixing whatever anti-Semitic symbols you had unintentionally created. That was it, a slow, deliberate grab. You leaned forward and blindly plunged your fist into the purse, immediately stabbing yourself on the blade you had ironically brought for your own safety.

“My god damned weasels with a salad mixer named Larry, FUCK!” you whispered in pain, shutting your eyes and grabbing at your arm. 

“What in the fuck,” Tony glared, pushing himself out of his chair and standing up. “Did you just stab yourself?”

“No,” you snapped again, “it’s not what it looks like! I was just trying to get the mirror and my safety knife was right beside the bag and I just kept stabbing myself on it!”

“So move it out of the fucking way,” Tony said, throwing his arms up in the air. “I mean, for fuck’s sake. I watched you do it the first time and thought it was a mistake. But you just can't be serious on the second. Like, seriously? Stabbing yourself two times on a knife you brought to a Starbucks? That’s really my limit!" He put his sunglasses back on.

He carefully grabbed your scarf- which was carrying the knife- and placed it inside your purse, before grabbing onto your left arm with one hand, and carrying the purse with the other. 

The last thing you remembered was being dragged out of the cafe, slightly unconscious.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea for a while, so here it is. Not much ta' say.
> 
> Tell me what you guys think? And should I continue this? <3


End file.
